And Legosia’s campaign keep growing longer. I would’ve thought he’d be back by now, but it seems he’s facing more resistance than ever. Whatever may be, I hope those scientists and philosophers I told him to grab keep him good company.

-From The Last King of Elneshe’s 8th Note.

High above the sky of the Phasgorian camp, a single figure shined red. Though it was hard to see in the midday, Galeon was making rounds across the camp. The horizon curved ahead of him, letting him see even some of the moons far away. Which one of it was it? Antov? Yalesha?

Galeon shook his head. No time to be distracted. He looked down at the camp, and the surrounding plains and trees. He’d been sent to patrol to make sure a repeat of events didn’t happen, and when it came to the lives of innocents, Galeon couldn’t lose focus.

The trees showed him nothing, and the flight grew more boring by the hour. Galeon had to come down several times to rest, but when he’d come back up into the air, he’d find nothing again. Where could they be hiding? Two hallowmancers shouldn’t be that hard to spot. A Commander would do better, but those were too busy with the battles at the forefront.

Galeon sighed during one of these flights, his hands aching a bit from holding the position for so long. He let himself sag down closer to the ground, when a thought reached his head. Come down here, boy, I want to talk with you.

He looked down to find the sender, a clearly visible blue pillar rising up into the air from the ground. The centre of that shining beacon was a brown skinned man with white hair. Galeon recognized the man instantly.

I’ll be there, Lord Clasken. Galeon lowered himself to the ground, dismissing his jets and landing in a crouch on the ground in front of the duke. The man looked him up and down, scanning his features before speaking.

“You’re not going to be of any use if you make yourself so visible. Your name’s Galeon, isn’t it?”

“Yes, My Lord,” Galeon replied. The duke held up a hand in front of him.

“None of that “My Lord” business. It just wastes both of our time. Now, how fast do you think you could fly, soldier?” Lambre asked him.

“We don’t really measure that, sir,” Galeon replied.

“You should. Information is the strongest weapon we’ve got, and you’re the people that it relies on the most,” Lambre lectured. He started walking away from the camp and across the field, forcing Galeon to follow along to keep pace.

“That friend of yours, Emile, he’s got a knack for information gathering that few others do. Do you know what that means?” the duke asked.

“That he’s a valuable scout?” Galeon guessed.

“Maybe even more valuable than you or me, given the right scenario, yes. What you need is a heightening of your strengths, soldier, and I’ve taken it upon myself to guide you along that path,” Lambre finished.

“But why? You could be training other soldiers besides me instead? And I’ve really got to get back to sc-”

“The way you’re scouting, you’re never going to find anything. And I am training other soldiers. So don’t make me regret wasting my free time on you,” the duke replied.

He walked up to one of the trees at the edge of the forest, looking into the thicket and quieting. Galeon didn’t want to interrupt the duke’s musings, but his feet tapped on the ground impatiently.

“Stop that. I think I hear something,” Lambre told him and Galeon straightened. He couldn’t catch a hint of what Duke Lambre thought he was hearing, but he didn’t need to.

He looked up above and saw a portal open up near the camps. The same kind of size, the same shape. No… Galeon thought to himself. A blue pillar exploded from the Commander and a thought screamed into his mind.

He’s up in the trees. Get him before he starts! The duke shouted and Galeon began to run. He touched the palms of his fingers and took off into the air. He then touched his soles and flew faster. Up and up the tall trees he flew, till he burst out of them and the sun stung his eyes.

Open your eyes, boy, he’s below you! The duke shouted in his mind. Galeon freed his strength, looking down and into the leafy roof of the forest. He adjusted for a bit, btu finally found what he was looking for.

A green portal, large as the one over the camp, was hidden under the branches. Galeon blasted himself downwards, catching a few leaves as he fell. When he turned to find the Planar, he found a startled green-eyed man wrapped in clothes that were the colours of bark and dirt.

Found you! Galeon stopped himself and blasted himself in the man’s direction. But the Planar jumped from the branches and onto the ground. A green portal opened below him and the Planar jumped through. Galeon flew towards him, branches and leaves catching him and causing bruises.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The Planar flung himself out of another portal that was angled up and away from Galeon. Seraphas, let me catch up to him! Galeon prayed, rushing forward even as more and more obstructions stood before him. He hit a particularly sturdy branch and his course changed. Galeon flailed wildly in the air before correcting himself, chasing the Planar.

He should’ve been faster. Should’ve been able to catch up to the damned hallowmancer, but the trees stopped him. Galeon tried to force his way through the rest of them, uncaring of the cuts he gained. But the Planar would keep getting out of his reach. When Galeon got lower, he would make a portal up. When Galeon would chase him up to the tops of the trees, the Planar would drop down again and use his momentum to fling himself further.

Drop low! You’ll never catch up this way! Duke Lambre shouted into his mind.

But I’ll hit the ground then! Galeon shouted back.

You won’t! Use your head!

But what could Galeon do? Flying that low was a risk most Afterburners didn’t take! It would be even harder than flying high and trying to dodge the branches. But… Who says I have to fly? Galeon let his jets dissipate, thinking back to how Smokebrain had made that configuration.

He touched his calves first, then his shoulder and finally held a hand to his back for a moment. Five jets sprouted from those locations, and Galeon freed his bewl.

Galeon descended, but used his calf jets to slow the descent. It proved annoying, but he got the hang of it. Galeon freed bewl to the large jet on his back, sending him careening forward at extreme speed. He yelped when he almost hit a tree, barely adjusting his path.

How did he even manage this? I can’t do this without some adjustments! Galeon dismissed the jets on his shoulders, instead placing two new ones under his upper arms. He used those jets to steer himself along as he slid across the grass.

When he’d be in the path of a tree, he’d move out of the way. He guided himself along with his calves and arms. Slowly, Galeon got the hang of the configuration and started to gain on the Planar.

He must’ve noticed it too, because the Planar started creating portals to wild locations. But no matter how hard he tried, Galeon would catch up to him. It was a battle of attrition, to see who’d run out of bewl first. Galeon followed underneath as the Planar above took a sharp left turn. Galeon raised his right arm and extended his calf, turning the same almost as well.

“You’re not getting away, so might as well give up!” Galeon shouted at the man, but he didn’t stop. The Planar opened another portal and Galeon’s eyes widened as green appeared before him.

He raised his arms backwards to push himself away, but the portal coalesced and the attacker appeared at the other end of it. Without a word, he threw several grenades at Galeon and winked the portal shut.

Galeon freed as much bewl as he could into the tiny jets on his arms. The flames rose and hissed, but it wasn’t enough. A large explosion slammed into him and flung him backwards. Shrapnel embedded itself in Galeon’s body and his head hit the tree, knocking him into unconsciousness.

****

Blood matted the side of the Afterburner’s head when he woke. A single figure stood above him, dark skinned and spiky haired. The deep blue from his glowing pillar of light stung his eyes, keeping him from falling unconscious.

“S-sir…” Galeon muttered, a throbbing in his head alerting him to how hurt he was.

“Don’t talk, boy, just heal,” the duke ordered.

Galeon nodded, freeing as much bewl as he could to send through his body. Idly, he noted that there was a bunch of bewllan in his hands that hadn’t been there. He sent it first to the throbbing in his head, sighing at the relief of having it recede.

But that gave him notice of the wounds across the rest of his body. Sharp cuts made worse by the cold, purple spots and the piercing shrapnel and splinters that had stuck themselves in his body. Galeon didn’t care to heal them individually, sending a rough wave of bewl through it all to cleanse himself.

Cuts closed across his body in moments, needles and ceramic popping out of his skin as the flesh underneath closed. Purple spots turned to red and back to the healthy brown that Galeon associated with his skin. When all was said and done, his pool had halved in size, and Galeon was back to feeling like his old self.

“Are you good to walk?” Duke Lambre asked him.

“Yeah, I am…” Galeon replied, steadying himself with a hand as he stood up. There wasn’t a need to, considering his body was fine, but the mental strain of it weighed on his mind still.

“Did you catch anything noticeable about that man? His appearance, the clothes he wore?” Duke Lambre asked.

“He wore camouflage. Was trying to blend in with the forest. I could barely see his skin in there.”

“Hmmm, could just as easily be a Ravenishtani as he could a Phasgorian. But at least you stopped him, soldier,” Duke Lambre said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Where was he aiming for, Duk- I mean, sir?” Galeon asked.

Lambre looked behind him, towards the camp. He had that same expression he used when scanning Galeon.

“A stable. Thankfully, he didn’t get through, or we’d have lost a lot of our horses.”

“But why aim for that?” Galeon asked.

“Guerilla tactics, I assume. Trying to weaken us so that we retreat. My only concern is that they knew that our Commanders were busy, just like last time. Or else the damned Planar would’ve been caught long ago,” Duke Lambre mused out loud.

“What about the Afterburner? Did you see someone fly away?” Galeon asked, hoping they could still catch one of them. But the Duke’s expression didn’t waver from that focused stare.

“I… didn’t. I expanded my field as far as it could take me, but all I ever caught within it was the two of you,” the duke explained.

“Agh, he must’ve run away,” Galeon grunted. What a worthless endeavour.

“You at least save the stable, Galeon. That and the workers tending to the horses. It seems the king wasn’t wrong to give you the honours that he did.”

The king?

“Is that why you came here? Because His Highness ordered you to?” Galeon asked.

“Nah, I wanted to see what you were about all on my own. You’ve got potential, Galeon. Most Afterburners have a hard time improvising with their jets. They’re usually content to fly around and use hit-and-run tactics,” the duke complimented him.

Galeon felt bashful, but he wasn’t going to turn away anything given by a duke.

“You could stand to practice a bit more with that one, though. You don’t know when it could come in useful,” he then immediately criticized, ruining the high Galeon was riding off of.

“O-oh… yes, sir, I’ll be sure to,” Galeon replied, looking down at his hands and smiling. I’m going to have a lot of fun with this one.